


You shoot me dead (with those eyes of yours)

by chip1



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Secret Crush, it's dark and then it's just silly, photographer / model au, viktor and beka are friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chip1/pseuds/chip1
Summary: Otabek just lost his favorite photographer, but Viktor has a very good suggestion for a replacement--or how Yuri met his teenage crush and hated him at first sight.





	You shoot me dead (with those eyes of yours)

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if you guys see any mistakes!  
> This fic is the first part of a 5 single chapter series. All of them can be read solo and it will be ok! Each of them deal with the progress of their relationship.
> 
> Other fics (in progress):  
> 2\. Sway  
> 3\. Warm spring days   
> 4\. Devour  
> 5\. You

 

The loud ringtone of Otabek’s cellphone cut the humid air of an almost summer’s end in Barcelona. The small but comfortable hotel room has been his home for the past 15 days. Before that he had been in France and America. Otabek  _ really _ wanted a couple of days off before his next job. That’s why he his stay in Barcelona had been longer than any of this previous locations. His agent, of course, had chewed his ear for it, but going back to the US just to be in Europe again two weeks later was going to suck up all the energy he had. 

 

He hated airports, despised the small seats and the fact that you just bumped elbows with strangers the whole trip. And he knew his stomach was going to get all funny just thinking about being on a plane for such a long time. So, his agent could suck it. 

 

At the top of the side table, Otabek’s phone still yelled for attention. The dense rock music came into a halt and only then the man got up and reached for it.  _ Ah _ .  _ Viktor _ .

 

Staring at the screen with an scrunched up expression, he pondered what to do. Before he could decide, his phone chimed again with a text from the previous caller. 

 

_ [Beka, the worst thing ever happened! our wedding planner ditched us! can you believe that?! yuuri is swamped in and I flew over yesterday to help him. i’m so sorry beka! i won’t be able to do the honda shoot!]  _

 

A sudden coldness dissipated through Otabek’s whole body. He had just seen Viktor not more than two weeks ago in his photoshoot for some outwear shit company in France. Viktor was his go to photographer in Europe and Asia, he always had been, that was the particular reason why Otabek booked so many jobs in those continents. He felt his stomach sink down to his toes. A little on edge Otabek tried to come up with an answer. 

 

The screen lit up again with another text. Viktor wasn’t known for patience. 

 

_ [Don’t worry, Beka! I promised I’d take care of you, right? I’ve already talked to your agent and we’ve came through with a very good replacement. I’m sure you will love him.] _

 

Attached to it was a selfie of Viktor winking and Yuuri, Viktor’s fiancé, sleeping on the background on top what looked like a sitting arrangement graph. Otabek let out a breath. 

 

He started to feel his heart beating out of control. He grunted. All the things that could possibly go wrong with this  _ replacement _ were already piling up in Otabek’s mind. He got up supporting himself on the bed and started to search for his headphones. There was no way he would be able to leave the hotel to try and spend the building up tension by Djing, so his playlists on Spotify would have to suffice for the moment. Otherwise this would be another sleepless night. 

 

He was setting up his gear when the phone ringed again. His agent this time. With a huge effort the picked it up. He had to.

 

“ _ Otabek, how are you?”  _ she sounded a little worried.  _ Of course,  _ he thought and just grunted in response. “ _ Has Viktor already spoken with you?”  _ yet another grunt “ _ I’m sorry this happened. He is really buried in marriage stuff.” _

 

She sighed. Otabek knew that he was troublesome to deal with sometimes, it honestly just made him feel even worse and, subsequently, be even  _ more  _ troublesome to deal with. But his agent was nice. She was patient. She understood him as much as she could. 

 

They’d met when Otabek was a very anxious 17 year old, on vacation in Russia and watching an Ice Skate competition. She had gone there to scout some talent for her agency. Otabek was sure she wanted one of the pretty looking ice skaters, but she got him instead. A very poor deal if he was to comment about it. Back then they had some hope Otabek would grow 10 or 15 cm more, but well… He got stuck at 1,68cm. So the agency convinced him into doing photoshoots and catalogs. Otabek wasn’t sure why he agreed with that in the first place. 

 

“Mila, who is the other photographer?” he shifted on the bed, feeling his nervousness eating him from the inside. Otabek wasn’t sure if he wanted to hide forever or go around yelling and running in circles just to appease his heart rate. 

 

His agent, Mila, hummed on the other line. 

 

_ “I’ve never seen him, really. As far as I know he has only done artsy stuff before. So maybe this is a personal favor for Viktor”  _ she seemed to ponder at that for a while “ _ I heard they were close” _

 

_ Great. I’m bothering him and Viktor. _ Otabek huffed and passed a hand through his hair. 

 

“Fine.” He screwed his eyes shut as he tried to take back control of his heart rate. The downgrading thoughts did nothing to help, though. And Otabek suddenly needed to juggle both his heart and his brain. 

 

They hanged up with a few words of encouragement from Mila, but Otabek knew, he just knew, this was going to be another sleepless night. Change came really hard on Otabek’s mind, specially a chance this big. 

 

Viktor always treated him with respect and demanded the best from him without overwhelming the model, a thing all the  other cocky and fake photographers couldn’t do. Other photographers seemed to be always patronizing him, making Otabek feel like a fragile child, like he was being lied to. And if that guy that Viktor recommended was really  _ artsy _ \- well, Otabek just expected another pretentious cocky bastard. 

 

* * *

 

 

He jolted awake at 2 p.m. His heart beating so fast it was very hard to breath. With shaky hands he tried to reach for his phone and headphone. Struggling, he managed to bust Rancid on max volume. Fuck those  _ calming  _ songs. Fuck the meditation techniques. He dealt better with a drummer busting on his ears as hard as his heart was trying to rip out of his chest. 

 

Otabek cursed low as he focused on the song and the texture of his sheets, trying to calm down. After a good 10 minutes he was good enough to scroll through his notifications. A text from Viktor caught his attention. It was a simple  _ Call me when you wake up _ and a shit ton of smiley faces. 

 

He hated calls like he hated the prospect of a new photographer. After all those years working together Viktor should know better. So he fired a text instead. 

 

[ What ]

 

_ [ You are no fun, Beka. Don’t even wanna hear my voice, uh?] _

 

Viktor knew how to be  _ loud  _  even when texting. But that was one of the things that made Otabek like him so much. When Viktor was shooting it didn’t really matter if was Otabek or a ice block in front of the camera, Viktor grabbed all the attention to himself. He was loud, agitated and flirty, all the shooting crowd gathered around him. So Otabek could do his job in peace and leave. 

 

_ [I’m sending you Yurio’s instagram. You should get to know each other!!  I was thinking about introducing you two at the wedding anyway.  _ _ ❤] _

 

There was something about Viktor’s text that made Otabek’s frown even deeper. He clicked on the link and started to scroll down the -  _ now, his -  _  photographer instagram. Mila was right, he was  _ artsy _ . And, apparently, fucking famous. The kid had easily three times more followers than Otabek had - and Otabek had more than he cared for.  Beka stopped at a selfie and narrowed his eyes.  _ How old was this kid again? He looks like he is 18 years old! _

 

Otabek made a face at the boy wearing tiger print. There was no way that wasn’t a kid. He was sure the blond photographer wouldn’t even be able to enter the local clubs Otabek was accustomed playing at. 

 

Very nervous and upset, he busted up Monster Truck and tossed his phone aside. 

 

* * *

 

Yuri boarded the plane to Barcelona feeling more excited than he cared to admit. After his year going all about USA, from museum to museum, accompanying his photo expo, Yuri was down for some chill time in the warm sun of Spain.

 

When Viktor called him up his first answer was a short and dry  _ No _ . But after what it seemed like a thousand pictures of Katsudon, Viktor’s fiancé, basically sleeping while standing up from all the extra work after their wedding planner called it quits, Yuri quietly sent Viktor an e-mail with his flight itinerary.

 

And Yuri  _ had  _ heard of Otabek, of course. If not because of Viktor’s incessant chattering about the model every time he came back from a job, but because it was impossible being a gay teen and not knowing just who Otabek Altin was. Not that Yuri was a teen anymore, of course. He was 24 now, but the first time he ever heard of the other man he was a bratty and hormonal 16 year old. 

 

Otabek first exploded internationally when he was only 19. The viral ad was an ad for a perfume called  _ Hero _ . And  _ Jesus Fucking Christ  _  did  _ that  _  photo go around. That gorgeous tanned skin, glistening from all the fucking oil the producers had put on him, and that body that Yuri was sure was carved by the gods themselves. 

 

So - Yeah. It was impossible not knowing who Otabek was. Yuri would have to be careful not to say  _ I jerked off to that tacky photo of yours more times than I can count _ for a “hello”.  He coughed and adjusted himself on his airplane seat, opening up his notebook to do some research on the client and on - his teenage dreams - the model. 

 

* * *

 

It was the morning of the photoshoot and Otabek hated his life. Mila called him three times already to make sure he got to the studio on time, she even sent a producer to pick him up - what only served to sour Otabek’s mood even more. So when he got that - a little pumped with medication, to say the truth - he was ready to have a really bad day.

 

His photographer was nowhere to be seen and Otabek was hurried to hair and makeup.  This ad was supposed to be a good one - he cursed under his breath - it was a freaking motorcycle ad, right up his alley, but then Viktor had to go and a change that big in his life just fucked everything up. 

 

He was knocking his head lightly against the dresser when he heard a shuffle behind him. So he looked up to the mirror. 

 

* * *

 

A little chock rampaged Yuri’s whole body as his eyes met with Otabek’s on the mirror. Those deep brown eyes had to be the most expressive and beautiful thing he had ever seen in his short life. He choked up as he tried to say something to the other man, who just sat still with a very deep frown on his face.

 

“You can’t come in here.” Otabek’s voice was deep, talking to him in perfect english. 

 

Yuri shook his head to try and break the trance

 

“What… No. I’m Yuri Plisetsky. “ he tried to move to get closer to Otabek, but the other man just flinched and glared at him  _ What the hell  _ “ I’m the pho-”

 

“Doesn’t matter. You can’t come in here.” Otabek cut him short, his face all screwed up.

 

“Fine, fuck! Jesus this guy what is wrong with you?!” he barked and left the room.

 

Yuri walked with large steps. He was  _ furious _ . And disappointed. But more furious than anything. His teen wet dream was a prissy A class jerk.  He pulled out his headphones and hit Adrenaline Mob on his favorites, cursing his way to prep the equipment. 

 

 

“Hey, MR.  _ Hero… _ Can you  _ not _ make a face?” Ah. Yuri was pissed. 

 

They had been shooting for a good 30 minutes now and Otabek was being the prissiest son of a bitch he knew. His body was all locked in place and his face was just a mess. Where the fuck had that guy left those intense eyes that met his on the mirror?  _ Hell _ where was the greek god from  _ Hero _ ? Now he just looked like a scared cat with stomach problems. It was getting worse too.

 

“Are you making a face like that because you are constipated,  _ Mr. Hero? _ Or is just the stick up your butt that far up you can’t move with ease?!”

 

Otabek’s eyes went wide and he clenched his jaw. The producer was trying to calm Yuri down, but she couldn’t see that Otabek was fuming. Yuri barked and cursed as he put his camera down and tied up his long blond hair in a ponytail. 

 

“Fine. Ready to go,  _ Mr. Hero?”  _  Yuri picked back up the camera. 

 

Otabek balled his hands and got up from the bike he was sitting on. He walked very slowly to where Yuri was standing and, looking at him eye to eye - Yuri was basically his height - said in a low voice.

 

“You know nothing about me, you artsy bratt” 

 

A shiver ran down Yuri’s spine and he moved back as Otabek passed by him and left the studio. Yuri’s eyes followed him. Again the look on Otabek’s face made him think he was back looking at those gorgeous sculptures on New York museums. Maybe it was a thing when he got mad?

 

The producer sighed and gave Yuri a scowl. She searched around her pocket and fished out a couple of business cards.

 

“Honestly! Viktor said you guys would hit it off” she was growling “Why are you getting at his face like that?”

 

“What?! I  _ am not _ ! He is the one who is making  _ this” _ he gestured with his hands “So fucking hard”

 

“I don’t care.” the producer looked at him over her glasses and shoved a coffee shop card on his hands. “Otabek is a good model, try to go easy on him and it will be fine. Now, go share a coffee and make up. We need to finish this today.” she hurried him with her hands. 

 

Yuri tightened his lips but went along anyway. He wanted to text Viktor, but he wouldn’t asked for help. And  _ the fuck _ if he would go easy on the prissy model.

 

 

 

He knocked lightly on the door of the room Otabek was in. He had holed up inside the changing room and was blasting music loud enough it could be heard through his headphones. Yuri got closer and let out a small laugh when he recognized the music.  _ Here it comes,  _ from  _Shaman' Harvest_ , Yuri was sure . He put the cup of chai latte right in front of Otabek, who lifted his head at him. Yuri must still be smiling because the sheer amount of surprise on the other man’s face was a little amusing. 

 

Otabek put the headphones down. The music was even clearer now. He stared at the cup in front of him. 

 

“It’s prissy tea. For my prissy model” Yuri leveled a look at him, burring holes on those deep brown eyes as it was the source of some kind of divine inspiration. 

 

Otabek eyed the contents of the cup. 

 

“Is that chai latte?”  he asked, as Yuri rested his cup of coffee by Otabek’s cup of tea and proceeded to sweeten it. 

 

“Yes,  _ my hero _ . You look the type to like it and we are supposed to make up and hold hands so that the producer doesn’t have to waste money on another day at the studio” Otabek made a face as Yuri poured even more sugar on his coffee.

 

“You know that chai latte is coffee, right?” Yuri stopped stirring the coffee in front of him and turned to face the other side, coffing out a blush. Otabek felt some kind of amusement on that reaction. “It’s fine, I like it.”

 

“You better like it! Because I’m not going to buy you another one.” Yuri glared at him, but the faint blush on his cheeks took all the bite away and entertained Otabek even more. The photographer sat on the chair beside him and sipped his drink. 

 

“You will die if you eat this much sugar” 

 

Yuri shrugged, swirling his drink on the cup.

 

“It helps me deal with the likes of you” he let a shit eating grin spread over his features. 

 

The blond’s refreshing honesty was something rarely seen in the industry. Slowly, Beka took off the blanket and chuckled. 

 

“Wait what was that?!” Yuri stepped in closer to Otabek’s personal space, making the soft smile lingering on the other man’s face disappear completely. Frowning, he sat back a little. 

“Wow I almost wish I had made some kind of wish! Fuck that was as fast as a shooting star.”

 

Yuri barked a laugh and Otabek let his features relax a little.  _ The blond kid laughed just like Viktor did _ . 

 

‘What are you looking all smug for?" Yuri gave him a wary look, sipping his coffee again. 

 

Otabek coughed and then, a little tentatively, he spoke up.

 

“You have the same traits Viktor has.”

 

Yuri seemed really offended at that, his frown grew deeper in his face. So Otabek let a little smile tint his features. The photographer’s reactions were like a open book to his thoughts. For a moment Beka wondered if the other were even aware of it. 

 

“How observant of him you are. Too bad he is marrying Katsudon, right? You lost that.”

 

Yuri was restless and Otabek felt more comfortable with the shift on the conversation and someone else on the spotlight. Plus, the more wary Yuri grew, the raspy and guttural his voice became. And, somehow, that low voice was calming him down a bit. It thrummed him like the heavy drummers on his favorite songs. So he felt like he could push a little more. 

 

“Somethings are just not meant to be”

 

“Wait! You actually are in love with that old fart?!” Yuri got up, his eyes all wide and a tad hurt.

 

Otabek put a hand over his mouth as not to laugh at the face the other man made, but his eyes were shining. Yuri just stared at him, feeling a blush surface on his cheeks. 

 

“No” was the muffled response.

 

Yuri stared at the ground and at wall and the up to the ceiling. 

 

“Right, of course. You don’t like guys” it was a mumble, more a thought said out loud. Seeming to hear himself, Yuri bore his eyes at Otabek, already deep red all the way up to his ears. 

 

Otabek lowered down his hand and let a soft smile spread over his features.

 

“No, I just don’t  _ like Viktor _ .”

 

Otabek’s eyes were glistening. Yuri felt like he was going to be devoured. 

 

The producer knocked on the door and let out a relieved breath upon seeing the two talking on a low voice. They were both rushed to the studio again.

 

Yuri picked up the camera feeling a little different. As they assumed their designated positions he breathed in deeply and let out directions in the lowest voice he could. Sometime after a loud music echoed through the studio. The same on that was blasting on the model’s headphones not long ago. As the heavy and low notes stirred the room, the crease in between Otabek’s eyes was gone, and he chuckled. Yuri almost got that on camera.

 

“You have a good ear”

 

Yuri chewed on his lower lip. Now that he has seen this side of Otabek, the  _ Hero  _ wasn’t interesting anymore. He was going to make this ad so good that that man meat  _ Hero  _ photo was going to be ancient history on Otabek’s career. 

 

* * *

 

He had just tossed his stuff on the bed and the phone started to ring.  Feeling uncharacteristically good, Otabek picked it up.

 

“ _ WOW, no way! You answered!”  _ came Viktor’s cheery voice on the other side. Otabek just grunted. “ _ This HAS to mean the shoot went well, right?!”  _ He could over hear Viktor yelling with Yuuri something about being right. Otabek just furrowed his brows and sat on his bed. “ _ SoooO tell me! Tell me! How did you like my boy? Cute isn’t him? Just if he could out grow that foul mouth of his _ ” 

 

Viktor sighted on the other side of the line. 

 

“Sounds like you are giving him away, Viktor” 

 

Viktor giggled and there were sounds of rustling papers. 

_   
_ _ “Well, If feel like I’m his papa, you know? So I just want him to stop being a cheap brat and finding himself a good man to settle down with.” _

 

Otabek massaged his temples, closing his eyes. 

 

“I’m hanging up now”

 

_ “WAIT, Beka! Tell me at least if you exchanged contact numbers!”  _ There were more rustling on the other side of the line. Otabek let his shoulders drop. _ “Ooooh That’s a ‘no’ right? I can’t see you but I’m sure that’s a ‘no’. You know~~  I can give you his number if you want to.” _

 

Otabek clenched his jaw. He did wanted to. He briefly even considered asking the photographer if he wanted to hit one of the clubs that Otabek was a DJ at. But he felt exhausted. And he knew he was problematic. Otabek didn’t want to put that burden on other people. 

 

“Bye, Viktor” he ended the call, still hearing the protests on the other line. 

 

Otabek let his body drop on the bed. All the  _ excitement  _ from the day wearing him over. A normal day at shooting was already a strain for his brain. But getting to know new people was very much harder for him. Specially someone like Yuri. Otabek  _ tscked _ . There was something very refreshing about the transparent way Yuri held his feelings. Honest. made Beka feel more at ease. 

 

His phone chimed again with a text from Viktor. It was Yuri Plisetsky phone number. 

 

* * *

 

Yuri was pacing in his room. He felt really upset with himself for not asking Otabek’s phone number. He could call the agency. But what excuse would he give? He had one more night in Barcelona and then he would be gone, so if he was going to do something, he better do it  _ now. _

 

Yuri sighed. He could always call…  _ No. _

 

His phone rang loudly, making him jolt out of this thoughts.  _ Oh, speaking of the devil _

 

“ _ Hello, my favorite son” _ Yuri clicked his tongue. Viktor was even louder than usual. “ _ How was filling in the shoes of your nice papa? _ ”

 

“Not that big of a shoe to fill, old fart” He was lying, of course. 

 

Yuri admired a lot Viktor’s work and secretly got into photography because of that. And also decided  _ not to  _ do fashion photoshoots for the very same reason. He admired Viktor, yes, but he wanted to follow his own path. He even turned down modeling when he was younger just because that’s how Viktor started. No way, Yuri was going to carve a path for himself. 

 

_ “How can you say this, Yurio~~  Your poor papa! _ ” Viktor was whining on the other side of the line. Yuri pulled the phone a little off his ears “ _ Now you have to tell me how it went down with Beka as a punishment, you know!” _

 

Yuri glared at the wall.  _ Well, fuck _ . Viktor knew enough about him to understand the exact type his  _ sorry gay  _ ass would go for. That was definitely a  _ no _ to asking Viktor for Otabek’s phone.

 

“It was fine,  _ Jezz _ … He was all cocky and prissy at first but then I got him a chai latte and princess calmed down.” Yuri ran a hand through his now loose hair, trying to get rid of some knots. 

 

Viktor hummed on the other line. 

 

“ _ Amazing ~ Buying each other gifs already! Papa is so proud! _ ” 

 

Yuri took off his clothes, throwing them around. 

  
“You are not my dad, old fart” there was a chuckle, almost painful restricted little laugh on the other side of the line.

 

_ “Well, the offer still stands.” _ Viktor’s voice was a tad more serious.

 

“Jesus Fuck, Viktor! I’m 24! You are not adopting me!”

 

“ _ Maybe not officially, but Yurio-kun still has access to my house and my heart anytime he wants. He knows right??~”  _ there was a giggle “ _ Oh, and my phone book too!” _

 

Yuri’s face shined a bright shade of red.

 

“BYE NOW, Viktor!” 

 

* * *

 

Otabek was just getting back from a photoshoot when he heard his cellphone sing on his pocket. He had been back at the US for three weeks now, summer was gone for the year and the snowy paths already cluttered NY City. Otabek liked winter the best. Nobody needed an excuse to stay home, photoshoots were always faster because people just wanted to leave and he could have chai latte without feeling like the fire of the seven hells were going to descend upon him. Yes, he liked the winter a lot. 

 

He unlocked his phone already knowing how was the caller. This time a day couldn’t be anyone else. Otabek pondered a little about picking up or not, but Viktor hadn’t called in a entire week, so maybe this was urgent?

 

“ _ YOU PICKED UP! WOW I feel so happy”  _ Ah. Everything was as usual. Otabek already regret this decision. “ _ Please, Beka, please! I need some distraction! The wedding is in three weeks and I’m going crazy. Please humor me! Yuuri kicked me out of the room and I’m crying.”  _ he was not.

 

“Fine” he looked around, searching for some inspiration. “Mila wants me to do another underwear ad.” 

 

“ _ Oh! Of course she does! You look good in them, right Hero?”  _ Viktor giggled on the other line. 

 

“That was a perfume ad.”

 

_ “Well, you weren’t wearing much more than a overestimated pair of trunks in that ad, if you ask me.”  _ Otabek knew that. He let out an exasperated breath.

 

“I hate that photo” Viktor barked a laugh. “By the way, the shoot is in Europe right after your wedding”

 

There was an  _ oooh _ on the other line then it went silent for a while. 

 

_ “It’s ok if Yurio does it, right? I’ll be somewhere in South America kissing the naked tanned ass of my then husband.” _ Otabek couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see him but still Beka was sure Viktor had the biggest grin in his face right now. _ “Oh, right! ~ how could i forget - I swear this wedding stuff… Did you ever call him?” _

 

No. No, he didn’t. And the more time went by, the worst he felt about calling the blonde. It was a circle of regret, really, He regret not calling and then thought of doing it now, but now was too late and wish he had done it before - and then a few days after he would be hit with the exact same sequence of feelings. But  _ What would he even have to say? _

 

“ _ That’s a ‘no’ right?  Whyyy though? You should just call him, Otabek!” _

 

“I just can’t… I keep on thinking about all the stupid things I could say…” he let out a breath “I can’t even pick up the phone without feeling like I’m going to have a heart attack. Fuck” 

 

His heart was beating faster already. He clenched his left hand on his knee. He felt pathetic.

 

“ _ Cute” _

 

“No. Not cute. Sick.” Mustering all the courage he could find, Otabek coughed a little before asking “Did you talk to him about me?”

 

“ _ Yassss, Beka! All the time. I keep on telling you how am-” _

 

“No.” Otabek felt a little ashamed. “No that”

 

There was a small pause on the other line. Otabek swear he could hear the thought process of his friend over the phone. Then, finally..

 

“ _ oh…” _ Viktor hummed “ _ You know I’d never out your mental illness like that.”  _  there was a playful smile on his words “ _ But my Yurio isn’t like, that you know… I’m sure he would be happy to hear from you _ .  _ There’s no shame in who you are, Beka. I honestly think you are amazing!!! You travel and you go to this shoots!! You are so great you even had an ad called Hero! _ ”

 

Otabek let out a chuckle. He would never hear the end of this ad for the rest of his life. Although his chest was feeling tight, Viktor’s words made it a little easier to go through that day. 

 

“ _ Oh, Beka. I have a little favor to ask, if Mila would forgive me.”  _ there was some rustling on the other end of the line and he heard someone call out Viktor. “ _ Would you mind terribly coming over a week earlier?” _

 

* * *

 

Yuri was finally done with the adjustments from the motorcycle shoot in Barcelona. He mailed the final shots for the agency and stretched on his chair. He was back at his grandfather’s house in Russia the day after he finished his job with Otabek. Yuri got up, looking around. The internet in there was really awful and the energy constantly busted one of the outlets, but this was the only place he could feel close to his grampa. Even after all those years, Yuri still missed him every day. 

 

This made things even more awkward, he thought, and mumbled a lame as excuse for his grampa’s spirit, still feeling ashamed for the totally ravished state he had woken up the first few days back there.  _ Well _ , you don’t just simply meet you teenage crush and leave without feeling at least a little bit hipped up. 

 

If he’d count the one last night, that would be the third time he’d had wet dreams about Otabek Altin just that week. He felt like a kid again. Of course it didn’t help that he took two weeks to finish editing the man’s photos and yet another one complying to the alterations asked by the agency. So there was a total of three fucking weeks staring at those marvelous eyes and very broad and inviting body. Just the memory of the other man looking up at him, while a slow smile spread over his features, made Yuri’s heart skip so many beats he was beginning to fear an actual heart attack.

 

He closed his eyes, feeling the heat pool on his groin again.  _ Ah shit, fuck it! _

 

He picked up the phone and quickly pressed Viktor’s contact info. The call was picked up on the second ring.

 

“ _ Yurioooo~~  I’m so glad you are calling your papa” _ Yuri clicked his tongue

 

“Well, anyway can you give me th-”

 

“ _ Jesus, Macchin, no! Ohhh GOD! Yurio please come and help me. Please!!”  _ Viktor cut him. On the other side Yuri could hear the sound of something crashing. Yuri was only half glad he was interrupted.

 

“No way, old fart. You put yourself into this. I told you to just hire someone else!” Yuri sat back in front of the computer, opening the airline website. 

 

“ _ Noooo… If that one ditched us again what would I do?? Uaaah. Makkachin!-” _

 

The call was dropped. Yuri sighed, already feeling like this was a really bad idea.

__

 

The blond stepped in the mild cold air of Hasetsu feeling like it was a blissful break from Russia’s rash and unforgiving winter. The perspective of a relaxing bath on the thermals was a welcoming idea as well. So, more content than not, he made his way to Katsudon’s residence. 

 

He passed through the front reception and went to fish his own slippers, stored in the house for him. He had spent many years of his late teens and early adulthood right there. He and Viktor had met not long after his grandfather had passed away. Yuri was a very angry 15 year old wannabe punk kid that somehow got himself in a workshop teached by the older photographer. After that Viktor just grabbed a hold of him and never let it go, even going as far as dragging him to art college in Japan. Of course, he and Katsudon were already dating back then. 

 

A sudden rustling caught his attention right before a very big dog almost knock him out of his senses. 

 

“Makkachin, NO! What’s with you, really!” Viktor came yelling down the hall. 

 

“Get your fat dog out off me, Jezz!” Yuri felt like he should fight for his life at every lick the dog tried to give him.

 

“WOW YURIO!” Viktor jumped on him right there with Macchin, making the man wobble in his feet a little. “You actually came! It’s so good to see you! Are you happy to see your papa? It’s been so long!”

 

“Whatever, I’m here now! I’m going to take a shower than you mope your face and tell me what’s so urgent you needed my help with.” he managed to get away from his welcoming party, reaching for his bags. 

 

“ _ Oh _ I have something!!!”

 

Yuri looked back at him

 

“I just got here. It can wait for me to take a shower and sleep the jetlag off.” 

 

Viktor looked happy. Almost  _ too happy _

 

“Don’t worry! You get your beauty sleep.” he smiled. long and devilish, “ I need you to pick someone at the airport  _ tomorrow _ !”

 

* * *

 

Otabek felt so high on sleep medication that he barely realized who was waiting for him at the airport pick up. He blinked once - two times for good measure -  and then narrowed his eyes.  _ Fucking Viktor.  _ His legs stilled and his heart started to flutter, his anxiety fighting the medication and leaving him in a breathless unmovable state. 

 

Yuri looked up from his phone and jumped at the sight of Otabek. He looked around a little and then gave little slaps on his face, leaving a small red mark. As Otabek stood still, Yuri just moved towards him, taking both earplugs off. 

 

“Hey… I’m on driver duty, I guess. Welcome to Japan?” Yuri shrugged as Otabek tried to blink himself awake. 

 

Otabek’s palms were sweating. He tried to clean them in his trousers as discretely as possible. Yuri looked down at him, assessing his form, and then let out a little exclamation. 

  
“Oh shit you won’t believe this!” the fumbled with his phone and gave one of the red cords for Otabek to put in his ear. Linoleum was playing. It was already ending by the looks of it. 

 

Otabek hummed once the song came to an end.

  
“You like NOFX” 

 

Yuri gave him a huge smile. Otabek thought he might die from a heart condition. 

 

“And you are wearing their shirt!” the man pointed at Otabek’s shirt, as if confirming the information “How fucking crazy was that?!” Beka nodded, feeling his heart still beat fast, but at a different rhythm. Breathing was coming easier now, but the knot on his stomach felt worse then ever. “Hey, bad flight? You have that constipated look on your face again.”

 

Otabek seemed to be only aware now that they were right in the middle of the exit passage. 

He shrugged, scratching the back of the pointy hair on his undercut. Yuri was as vibrant as ever, his voice came like a drum beat to Otabek’s ears.  _ Ah _ . It calmed him down a bit. Made Otabek feel safe. For a moment he wondered if Yuri was doing it on purpose. 

 

“Too many sleeping pills, I guess” 

 

“Oh shit! I got you! Planes are the worst.” Yuri made a face and took one of the bags from Otabek’s hand, brushing their fingers just a little. He turned abruptly, shaking his head “Oh! Car is there… We should.. Yeah. We should go.”

 

They drove in companionable silence, or as much silence as one can get with NOFX blasting full volume on the radio. Yuri tapped on the wheel and sang a little off-tune. The only time he chanced a glance at Otabek, the other man was staring right at him, with  _ those damn eyes _ glistening in an amused expression. 

 

“Shut up!” he yelled, blushing furiously and not looking to his side again for the rest of the trip. 

 

Viktor gave Otabek a warm hug once they reached Hasetsu, but the man just stared at him with unforgiving eyes. Yuri watched the both of them  _ kind of talk  _  - because Viktor did all the actual talking - with much interest. After a few more grunts and nods, Viktor showed Otabek to his room. 

 

* * *

 

Otabek ended up sleeping his jet leg off for the rest of the day. He now was very much laying down on his bed and wishing he could sleep until the time of the wedding, but that was only a little more than a weeks away. _ What would he do about dealing with his blond photographer till then?  _ The only hope for him was Viktor busing them with so much wedding stuff that he wouldn’t notice time going by. 

 

It was an early cold morning when he finally left the room. Much to his surprise only Yuri was left in the house, splurged on the floor while watching TV and drinking coffee. He almost choked on the drink when Otabek walked in - well, that helped put the man at ease. 

 

“The others left?” he asked simply, looking down at the photographer on the ground. 

 

“Ah Yeah. Too much to do, I guess. Viktor left us a list, though.” he patted the piece of paper by his side. “He figured you wouldn’t be able to walk around by yourself without knowing how to speak japanese. So I guess we are doing chores together.” 

 

Otabek had the big impression that Viktor called him to come earlier just so that he could play matchmaking. He made a face at the thought.

 

They ate something before leaving to check out the biggest amount of things possible from the huge to do list Viktor had given them. Yuri seemed excited to check out Otabek’s playlists after he was told the man Dj’s for fun in his spare time. They ended up playing everything from Gojira to Alice in Chains and Metallica. By the end of the day they were sitting at a coffee shop, with Yuri pouring 3 bags of sugar down his moccha, and sharing headphone that Yuri was sure had the best sound system he had ever heard. 

 

“This is great! Honestly, you are amazing!” Yuri said, scrolling down Otabek’s playlist on his phone. 

 

 

Otabek tightened his lips together and furrowed his brows. His heart had be beating hard non stop for a while now, Yuri kept on talking about him, about his music and about the photoshoot. Otabek felt suffocated. He was sure Yuri would find something to be disappointed about very soon then he would just leave Otabek. He knew he was being a hassle for the other man. Yuri had to babysit him because he knew nothing about the city they were in. Such a bothersome person, really. Otabek felt something tug at his heart. He wanted to leave. 

 

He looked up at Yuri, who was now telling the story about how he got to know Otabek through the  _ Hero  _ ad and how much everyone on his school loved that piece. Beka felt his stomach sink. He hated that photo. Hated that Yuri had access to it. Having the other man talk about him non stop was making his palms sweat. A chill run down his spine and suddenly the coffee shop was closing in on him. He  _ had  _ to leave.

 

Otabek got up and mumbled a quiet  _ sorry _ , going over the exit. Yuri was in shock.  _ Had he talk too much? _ Before he could get up and put a lid on his coffee, Otabek was gone. Yuri fumbled a little, trying to shove his stuff on his pockets and dashed after Otabek on the streets. He looked around a little, but there was no sign of the model. 

 

Yuri fished his phone out of his pocket, thanking Viktor for insisting on giving him Otabek’s phone number. He was quick to press on the contact information and a picture of the  _ Hero _ ad showed up on the screen. Yuri blushed. He actually wanted to make that photo his lock screen background, but he would never hear the end of it from Viktor. So putting it on Otabek’s contact information was good enough. 

 

Something vibrated on the photographer’s pocket and he cursed out loud. He’d forgotten that Otabek left so suddenly he left his phone right there on Yuri’s hands.  _ What now? _

 

 

 

_ This is a disaster _ . Was the only thing on Otabek’s head, pounding over and over again, as he walked on the empty streets of Hasetsu, trying to even out his breathing. Of course he had no idea how to get back to Yuuri’s home, so he just wandered around the coffee shop, letting the cold winter air wash over his face. All the sound around him was muted by a constant ringing on his ears.

 

Suddenly, he felt someone grab his wrist and, with a violent tug, Otabek jolts himself free, turning to face his attacker. 

 

“What the fuck?!” 

 

The smell of and overly sweet coffee invaded his senses. Yuri stood in front of him, startled and completely drenched in coffee. Otabek gulped, feeling his chest constrict.  _ This was a fucking disaster. I need to go home NOW. _ Yuri looked up to him, seeming to say something but Otabek couldn’t make out what exactly. A cold sweat broke out from his hairline. He reached a hand to his chest.  _ Shit. _

 

Yuri observed him a little scared. With shaky hands, he fished out Otabek’s phone and headphones out of his pockets. The man in front of him was breathing in increasingly short breaths, his whole body seemed locked in place. With a little bit of effort, Yuri selected the same song Otabek was hearing after their fight back in Barcelona and covered the other man’s ears with his headphones. 

 

Otabek stilled. His eyes were wide and frightened. Yuri never wanted to see them again in his life. Carefully, he raised Otabek’s left hand to his eyesight and intertwined his fingers with the models, slowly massaging the insides of his sweaty palms. With his other hand, he pressed Otabek’s right palm against his chest, making an effort to breath in and breath out on even notes. Otabek’s eyes shift for the hand lying flat on Yuri’s pectoral. 

 

After a while Beka managed to match Yuri’s breathing pace, so the blond reached for the headset, still leaving Otabek’s hand resting on his chest. He put a very cold hand on the man’s face.

 

“Hey, Otabek… It’s really cold, right? It was so much better in Barcelona. Warm and fuzzy.” Yuri kept on talking to him in small sentences. The song blasting from the headphones could still be heard. Otabek shifted his eyes to Yuri’s mouth “It’s so nice to see you again. I just stared at your photos for three weeks straight” there was a breathy little laugh and the photographer felt himself blush “It’s so much better to see the real thing, you know? I’m happy you are here.”

 

Otabek fisted his right hand on Yuri’s shirt and pulled him close, resting his forehead on the warmth of Yuri’s neck. He could feel the photographer’s pulse accelerated, but there was still a paused calm about his words. Otabek felt nothing but honesty dissipating from those words, even the small nags and complaints about Viktor and his fiance. 

 

They separated after a while. Otabek glanced straight into Yuri’s eyes, making his blush flush down his neck.  _ Fuck, that should be illegal!  _  Beka chuckled. 

 

“You are cute, Yura.”

 

Yuri jolted and looked to the ground.

 

“No, I’m _ not!  _ Shut’up!” he barked. Otabek just smiled more and Yuri couldn’t even get mad at the guy. There was a good 8 years since the last time someone called him  _ cute _ . And he always despised it. But Otabek saying it just made him feel all mushy.

 

“As I said…  _ Cute. _ ” 

 

Yuri mumbled and cursed, tugging Otabek by their still intertwined hands to the direction of the car. 

 

* * *

 

Viktor came home to find Otabek sitting in front of an empty table. 

 

“Oh there you are! How did it go today?” he sat down in front of Beka, leaving the huge bags by his side on the floor.

 

“Fine. I had a panic attack” Otabek knitted his brows, looking at the bags Viktor had brought in.

 

“What? Are you ok?!” Viktor looked at him with concern. He had seen Otabek had a panic attack or two during the years they knew each other, so he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for pushing things onto his friend. 

 

“I said it was  _ fine _ .” Beka shrugged.

 

“You prepare your fucking stomach, Altin! This is the best thing you have ever tasted in your life” Yuri interrupted them, bringing two huge fuming pork cutlet bowls and resting them on the table in front of the two men. Yuri sat by Otabek’s side, bumping shoulders with him. He looked up. “Oh, are you back already, old man?”

 

Viktor looked from one to the other men sitting right across from him and let a grin spread wide on his features. 

 

“ _ yes _ ! We got a lot done thanks to the two of you.” he rested his chin on his hand, while Yuri payed him no mind and Otabek just stared at the bowl full of food in front of him.

 

“Ah, sure. whatever. We got done like half of that list, so tomorrow I’m taking Otabek again to finish it”. Yuri waved a hand at Viktor and nudged Otabek on the ribs for him to eat. 

 

“Sure. Take him sightseeing too, Yurio. Don’t be so stingy.”

 

Otabek chanced a glare at Viktor who just shrugged it off and got up with a smile. Maybe it  _ would _ be fine, after all.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> so ... this is my first fic in 10 years lmao  
> All the bands and songs came from one of my fav playlists on spotify: Rock hard.
> 
> There will be complementary fics! So we will see their relationship through 
> 
> follow me on tumblr: chip1.tumblr.com


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